


For You

by ervnsolo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Feels, Car Accidents, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ervnsolo/pseuds/ervnsolo
Summary: Working at a cafe, it's almost second nature to pick out the faces of the regulars, memorising their every feature and engraving them into your mind. Especially if they're around every day without fail. Developing a bond with this familiar stranger, which way does your heart pull when everything goes south?
Relationships: Eren Yeager/Original Character(s), Eren Yeager/Reader, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. One Black Coffee - With Sugar, Please

**Author's Note:**

> For inclusion, MC is nameless and goes by all pronouns. This fic will be updated weekly! I hope you enjoy <3 please leave comments for suggestions/improvements :)

My chin slowly slips off my hand, and I’m jolted awake by a loud thud against the counter. A dull pain pounds through my head, applause by snickers from behind me. I whip my head around only to be met by another stabbing pain, leaving me leaning my back against the counter to steady myself.

“You really shouldn’t be sleeping on the job,” Connie snorts.

I roll my eyes, “Maybe if I didn’t have to work all my shifts after school…”

Connie’s about to open his mouth again to say something, but we’re interrupted by the chiming of bells. We turn simultaneously, ready for a greeting, but are met only by an empty chair and a fading silhouette of our last customer. I check my watch - there’s still 40 minutes before closing. Bright eyes and a waterfall of chocolate hair peeks out of the closet behind the counter. “Mr Broody left already?” Sasha asks.

“Yea, guess he got sick of us,” Connie replies, making a face.

“Sick of you, maybe!”

Their bickering continues as I bring the cup in from a table by the window in a corner. There’s not a single drop of coffee left, as if he had attempted to clean the cup himself. How would he do that? With his tongue? An image of a snake like tongue swirling around the cup conjures itself up in my mind, and it takes everything in me not to gag as I wash up for the evening.

After locking up, we walk our separate ways. I wave Sasha and Connie a quick goodbye, then make my way downtown to the small apartment blocks on the cheaper side of town. The weather is getting chilly, a biting wind blowing at my face. I pull my jacket closer around me, trying to keep in as much warmth as I can. The cars rushing by don’t help the situation either, leaving me freezing and shivering to the bone at the building doorway.

The key to my apartment clicks. I sigh as I enter, hanging my jacket on the coat hanger at the doorway as my eyes adjust to the dark. Making my way to the small bed by the corner, I switch a dim lamp on, giving my face a quick rinse before heading to bed.

My back hits the mattress the way a rock would hit cement ground from 20 storeys up. Considering the college kicked me out to make space for first years, I guess I’m not in too bad of a position with an okay job and a roof over my head. But oh, how I’d do anything for a night on a bed which isn’t made of bricks.

Before my eyelids clamp shut, a mental schedule runs through my mind. Taking the 8am classes is the one, and maybe only, thing I regret about my college years, but heck, I would rather take those than suffer through late night hours. A grunt leaves me as I turn over, remembering I’m working closing shift again tomorrow evening. Not that I really have a choice, though. At the very least, it’s regular enough that I could go through it without much thought. After all, I already know who our last customer will be and what his order is.

A breathy laugh takes up the small space around me. For someone who left such a bitter taste in our mouths when we met him for the first time all those months ago, he sure does have a low tolerance for bitterness.

Closed eyelids are met with visions of greenery and a warm breeze, brushing through long, murky hair. Blue sky spans endlessly ahead of me, meadows rolling on either side. I chase the figure in the distance, desperate not to lose sight of it, and with every step I take I feel lighter and lighter until I'm floating. Until I'm free.

  
  
The hissing will not stop. For some reason, out of all the days to be late, I’m late today. When the line is almost out the door and the orders are packing in and yet, my shift isn’t even half an hour in. I was only 10 minutes late, but it feels like I missed the entire thing. Not only is the cafe more packed than I’ve ever seen it, but I’m working the counter alone, an unfamiliar barista working the drinks behind me.

Noise just keeps piling up over each other, orders over orders, the chatter of customers, the steaming of the machines and the drips of coffee and it’s pushing me back and forth and I feel like a rope in the middle of a children’s game of tug of war. I barely register each stranger’s face as they pass their orders through. The humidity in the workstation is out of the roof, and it’s almost like the sudden rush of customers has done more than enough to scare the winter cold away. Although, I’m sure it isn’t doing too much good for my hair. I don’t have a mirror with me, but honestly, the only way my hair is still somewhat in place is if a miracle had happened and some unseen force believes that I have to deal with enough as it is today. I doubt that’s the case, though.

Faces come and go in blurs of colours and a lack of features, until a familiar presence graces me.

I look up, dull green eyes meeting my own. He opens his mouth to begin stating his order, but before he starts, I’ve finished it for him. 

“A black coffee with just enough sugar to dissolve in?”

He nods, but continues to make conversation, despite his usual visits being accompanied by statue silence. “Busy day today, huh? I’ll take it to go.”

There’s a slight flutter of disappointment in my chest - the reason? Unclear, I keep my customer service smile on anyway and nod, passing the order to the barista behind me. The next few orders are slower, their momentums halted by the presence standing awkwardly by the collection counter.

It’s difficult to avoid throwing subtle glances at him between every order. Saying he’s attractive wouldn’t be the correct term for it - he’s just...magnetic. With the softest stray locks of hair framing his face, and lips made for smiling but set to stone in an expression so blank it would send my exam papers to shame. It always seems to be at the brink of a smile, but never having the muscles to pull itself fully into one. I wonder-

My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle cough from a young woman in front of me, a child with large eyes hanging on to her shoulder, strands of their mother’s hair in their mouth. I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away, but before I can even begin to take the order, I’m interrupted once more.

“Eren!” A voice echoes from the collection counter. The magnet seems startled, jumping at the sound of his name. He bows his head ever so slightly in thanks, but just as suddenly as he’d appeared, he’s gone again.

A tapping on the counter brings me back to my job. “Right,” I exclaim, “Sorry, what was your order again?”


	2. What's Yours?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs some sort of constant in his life, and for better or worse, that's you.

The sudden rush of customers seemed to be a one time thing, and saying I’m glad for it would’ve been an understatement.

Cold water rushes from the faucet over my hands when a tinkling bell brings my attention to the door. The sun brings in a glare through the glass, obstructing the view of the customer who has just walked in. When he gets past that one stubborn ray of golden sunset light though, our most frequent customer is back in his own groove, clearly more comfortable than he was yesterday in the overfilling cafe.

A head of caramel hair bobs into view, but just as the customer approaches the counter, I shove it out of the way. Sasha lets out a small yelp, causing our manager to come out and check on us. Before anyone can say anything though, I’m taking the order, but all eyes are on me.

This magnet of a man makes no expression at the scene that had just unfolded before him, but perhaps he just hadn’t noticed it. I give him the sweetest smile I can muster, but even as the corners of my lips pull upwards, a heavy blush creeps up my cheeks and across my ears. Isn’t it too warm in here for the winter?

“Same order?” I ask. He only nods in reply. I swallow hard and pass the order to Sasha, who seems to take it in a painstakingly slow motion. “It’s Eren, right?” I continue, trying to get some sort of response out of him. His lips purse slightly, but again, his reply is silent and nothing more than a nod. “That would be-” I continue, but before I can finish my sentence, Eren’s dropped the exact change onto the black marble counter and made his way past empty tables to his usual spot, hot drink in hand.

I quickly stuff the cash into the register, the warmth in my face still as persistent as ever. I glance up to catch another look at him, but Eren’s attention is already too distant. His eyes look out the window, but they never seem to truly be just there. A small sigh leaves me as my mind buzzes with questions, but none louder than perhaps the most obvious - who is this man outside of his sweet blacks and distant daydreams?

A series of deliberate coughs break me out of my trance. I turn quickly, met by two smirks and probably a lot of questions to come. I stand there awkwardly, fiddling with my fingers, not quite knowing where to look. The extra presence of a customer causes my breath to become shallow - this isn’t going to be fun.

To my surprise, our manager is the first to break the silence. They push their glasses up slightly, then meet my eyes with a gaze that can probably see right through me. “So, the brooder is a type, then?” Zoe says, not menacingly, but in a tone enough to make me feel the need to melt right through the floor and never return again.

I open my mouth to respond, but before the words can even form, Sasha punches me in the shoulder, throwing me off balance. “I didn’t know that was your type!”

Groaning, I turn back to face the empty cafe, but my eyes immediately latch on to the back of Eren’s head. I quickly pull myself away before Zoe or Sasha notice, but I’m too slow.

“If you’re going to be ogling over him that much, we might as well put him in a museum. He’s a person, not an exhibition,” Zoe whispers in my ear before returning to their office for the rest of the evening.

  
  


A few other customers come and go, but soon it’s half an hour to closing and Eren has let himself out of the door. He doesn’t say a word, just picks himself up and goes, and it feels like I can breathe again. Sasha and I get to cleaning up the shop, sweeping the floors and drying out the rest of the dishes. We give a quick knock on the manager’s office door before we go, then step into the chilly streets, leaving Zoe to lock up when they decide to leave.

Sasha gives me a quick smile and a wave before turning to catch a cab to her house uptown. I’m not too close with her, but I’ve been to her house once for a small party. She still lives with her parents, but as I curl into myself on the way to my shaggy apartment complex, I miss the comfort that had come with promised family dinners.

A heavy breath leaves me as I open the door to my apartment, but it’s immediately taken again by my chest against the floor. I grunt, pulling myself up to the light switch to see what I had tripped over, but the sight which meets me is one which leaves a heavy silence and a chilling howling swirling through the room.

  
  
  


The shift starts early today, since staffing is low and my classes were cancelled from bad weather anyway. The customer service smile just won’t cut it today, not when my eyes feel sucked out and my body aches. My nose is stuffy and there’s an itch in my throat, but at least I know it’s not a virus of any sort.

Tears well in my eyes, stinging with the sudden breeze. I pull back slightly, trying to get away from the cold without having to step out of the job completely. Zoe is already checking on me every couple minutes, there’s no need to worry them even more. I sigh. If only I had called in sick. But now might be the worst time to be skipping over on a job. In fact, this might be the best thing for the time being.

A low cough breaks me out of my daze and my vision comes back into focus. I wipe the tears from my eyes, trying to recompose myself. Green eyes meet mine, embracing me in their endless ocean of colour. The boredom in them is gone, replaced with curiosity and - maybe it’s my wishful thinking - a hint of concern. I must’ve lost my focus again, because I’m snapped back to reality again by a voice so quiet, yet clearer than the glass on our windows.

“God, you look worse than I do,” the words leave Eren’s mouth and land flat in front of me, as though he meant for them to be pitiful, but couldn’t muster the emotion for it. A slight smile tugs at my lips, but the energy to form a full one is beyond me. Eren looks the way he usually does, his black jacket thrown over a simple pairing of a deep green t-shirt and cargo pants, every part of him seemingly perfectly in place although everything is so out of it. 

I shake my head. “The usual?” I ask.

“What’s your favourite drink?”

“Why does that matter?”

“I want to treat you, fix you up a little. I’m not letting someone who looks like they’ve been through more hell than I have serve me anything. I could catch something.”

I roll my eyes. “Just tell me what you want.”

“Not until you tell me what your favourite drink is. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to get you something off the top of my head,” he insists.

I’m about to protest again when Zoe places a hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle nudge. Sighing, I give in to this regular. He drops the change onto the counter, then keeps his eyes on me as I make both our drinks. When they’re both done, he takes his to his usual seat, leaving me behind the counter with my own.

The steam from my cup condenses on my face, leaving traces of humidity across my tight skin. Zoe keeps giving me side glances from their open office door, and I don’t even have to ask what they want. Undoing my apron, I give them a quick look of confirmation, returned with a smile which is almost apologetic.

Warm drink in hand, I stand opposite the familiar stranger. It takes a moment for him to register my presence, his eyes glued to whatever has caught his attention outside. Sheets of rain fall heavily against the glass, their cold seeping through the windows. When he finally notices me, his face is almost in shock, as though he hadn’t just bought me a drink.

Averting my eyes, a small thank you leaves my mouth.

Eren doesn’t say anything, just nods.

I stand awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. The warmth from my cup is slowly seeping away and I take a sip, desperate to keep the little that’s left in me somehow. The sensation sends chills down my spine, and a fresh set of tears spring to my eyes. Drinking something still close to scalding isn’t exactly the most genius idea of all time.

I feel a pair of eyes on me, studying me almost. Suddenly, I’m aware of how bad I look, hair unkept and shadows under my eyes. This isn’t exactly what I want to be catching looks for. 

“What happened?”

My knuckles turn white from the sudden tightened grip on my mug handle as I meet Eren in the eyes. “Why do you care?” I scoff.

His voice is almost monotonous in response. “I don’t, but if you’re just going to stand there-”

I shake my head, placing my mug down on the table ahead of him. Sitting in the orange chair across, I pull my knees up to my chin, keeping myself as small as I can. “This better for you?” He shrugs and I roll my eyes. His lack of response is getting on my nerves, but it takes all my will to stop a small smile from stretching itself across my cheeks.

We sit in silence for a while, the beating of the rain against the window a steady pulse between us. To my surprise, Eren is the one to break the silence. He clears his throat, pulling stray strands of hair behind his ears. “You’re the only consistent, constant person in my life right now, dramatic as it sounds. So, I’d like to at least keep that, even if it means I’ll be listening to some horrible story about your ex. Can’t really let something else slip from my life this easily, now can I?”

Shock hits me hard against the face. I feel like someone’s just punched me in the gut, winded me, then helped me recover again, all in the span of a couple of sentences. Frustration and anger boils in me, but who it’s directed to is more of a blur.

Words leave my mouth in a flurry, punctuated by scoffs and disappointment, “You’re just a selfish brat, aren’t you?”

Eren is unfazed by the comment, but it works me up more. “If I were so selfish, would I really be going out of the way to be entertaining you here?”

“You’re doing it for your own benefit!”

He leans forward, his face enveloped by the steam swirling from my mug. “Look sugar, you always have the option to return back to the counter and do your little barista job. I’m not forcing you to stay.” 

The bell on the door tinkles just as the words leave Eren’s mouth, but I sit unmoving, staring into the murky drink in my mug. The customer walks past us, and Zoe is already there, ready to serve them. Silence spreads between Eren and I, interrupted by the orders of another stranger who will just come and go. I feel his green eyes on me, but I refuse to meet them.

“There was a problem with my apartment building,” I mutter under my breath, being as quiet as I can. I expect some mockery from him, but Eren remains silent - pondering, or he simply hasn’t heard me. “It was a rough night.”

“What’s the problem?”

I turn away, pulling into myself more to avoid being seen at all costs. 

“Do you have a decent place to stay, at least?”

My head snaps up, my voice louder than I intend it to be. “Yes!” I blurt out before even giving a second thought. Eren pulls back, startled for a fraction of a moment, but soon enough his look of indifference is back. Except it masks a hint of suspicion. 

His shoulders relax, and he takes a quick glance at the watch face on his wrist. Abruptly, he stands, bringing our empty mugs to the counter, and leaving without a second glance or another word. I sit staring at the empty seat before me, trying to comprehend the sudden loss I feel in my soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! I'll be taking a break from updating next week due to exams, but I hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	3. Don’t Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could this stranger be more caring than he lets himself appear to be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter! I was busy with exams for a while, but I should be back to updating regularly. I love you loads, please enjoy <3

My eyes droop, my head barely touching the marble counter before I jolt myself awake. Connie cleans the cups out behind me, giving me side glances between conversations with Sasha. Their voices are quieter than usual today, but their whispers send pulses of pain through my head. I massage my temples, trying to ease the pain in them only to be rewarded with no result.

I put my head in my hands, resting my elbows against the countertop. After a week, the condition of my ‘home’ is no better, and with the lack of security in the area, nothing much can be done about it.

The people who had broken in had done nothing except trash the place, perhaps looking for something salvageable. Needless to say, they found nothing but decided to take pieces of furniture, leaving the windows in shards on the floor. A kettle and some plates had been taken as well, but those are easily replaceable. In my current financial state, it’s difficult to get the windows fixed, so I’ve taped them up, but with the cold winter months coming in at full storm, it hasn’t done me much good. Sleeping on a rock solid floor isn’t helping either.

There’s a distant tinkling of a bell but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes. Sasha’s voice chirps from beside me, greeting the customer, while another pair of hands gently pull me away to a far corner. My eyes are still half-shut, but Connie’s round head is visible through the blur. I groan, sinking to the floor before my legs give out on me. The dragging of a chair across the floor is followed by someone tucking a strand of hair behind my ears. One presence is swapped for another. 

“Hey,” Sasha’s voice is quiet, like a soft breeze in spring, “take the rest of the shift off. It’s not too busy, Connie and I can take care of the rest.”

I force my eyes open and the tight-lipped smile Sasha gives me sends a wave of comfort and relief through me. She gives me a hug, untying my apron as she does, then helps me to my feet. I drag my coat on and thank the both of them, making my way out the door with lead-filled limbs.

Cold wind bites at my face the moment I leave the cafe. Pulling my coat closer, I watch as my breath fades before me. The sun is still up, barely sitting on the distant horizon line, and traffic zips by. Engines fill my ears, colours blending into one in the street ahead of me. Taking deep breaths, I cross the road at the nearest crossing, then walk uptown, away from the half space I’ve been forced to call a home.

  
  


The sky turns a deep purple. One by one, warm streetlights guide me through winding paths between old trees and families with young children packing up to go home. Groups of four turn to couples and to people who only have themselves for company. My breath fogs ahead of me, but with labour. Lightheaded, I sit on a bench under the canopy of a tree lined with glinting fairy lights, watching shadows drift by. A breeze rustles through the leaves, and I pull my coat closer around me, desperate to keep in any warmth I can. Burying my face into my scarf, my eyes shut and I’m left drifting between dream and reality.

There’s a fireplace, flickering and dancing before me. Hot steam warms my cheeks, the hot cocoa in my hands sending a wave of comfort through me. Beside me, a dark figure crouches, staring into the flames. Their mouth moves, but no words reach me, and instead a heavy burden is placed onto my shoulders.

I’m jolted awake by the sudden weight on my shoulders. Disoriented, I look around, finding a familiar pair of green eyes on me, a softness pulling through them. Shifting in my seat, I realise there’s an extra coat over mine. Beside me, Eren’s arms are bare, his usual black jacket missing. He sits with one leg crossed over the other, and he hands something to me. 

“Here, eat.” The paper bag in his hand crinkles as he tears it open, rolling the paper down and holding it hanging between us. In it, a pastry of some sort glints in the dim light, steam rising from it. The heat sends chills when it comes in contact with my skin, the sudden change in temperature causing my chest to tighten. My stomach growls, but even so, I hesitate.

Eren sighs. “If you won’t take it, I’ll just force it down you. You look like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

I yank the pastry from him, taking an aggressive bite in response. We sit in silence until only crumbs remain. The sky has turned a navy blue, illuminated only by the not so distant city lights. Dusting the bits of pastry off of me, I crumple the bag into a ball, and toss it into the closest bin and mutter a quick thank you under my breath. Shrugging the jacket off my shoulders, I return it to Eren and begin making my way back home.

As soon as I turn my back to him though, a weight rests on my shoulders again. His eyes are still glossed with sympathy when they meet mine. “Let me walk you back home.”

“Do you have a bus pass with you?” I ask with a hint of irritation. If he noticed it, he doesn’t show it and simply nods, walking slightly behind me. 

The bus is empty at this time of evening, with most people having already headed home to their families. I take a seat by the window towards the back of the bus, and Eren takes the seat beside me. I keep my eyes on the view outside, but it’s difficult to shake the feeling of his eyes on me. There’s a thickness in the air between us, a third presence accompanying us on the journey back. 

Overwhelmed by the tension, I meet his gaze in the reflection in the window. “Would you quit staring?”

“You weren’t at the coffee shop today, but you’re in uniform.”

“Missed me that much?” Eren’s eyebrows crease into a frown and he finally turns away, choosing to look across the aisle instead.

Silence takes its place again as the bus slows to a stop. We get off the bus, walking side by side towards my apartment. As distant as I try to keep from him, the heat he radiates is too welcoming. Shoulder to shoulder, we pass stores shutting for the night, and restaurants and bars just opening for business.

Eren clears his throat, “Your co-workers said you weren’t feeling well, then I found you sleeping at the park.” His words hang in the air. How am I even supposed to respond to that?

At a loss for a reply, I nod. 

The faded white door to my apartment comes up ahead of us. I lean into it, thanking Eren for his company. As I begin shrugging the jacket off me again, he places a hand on my shoulder and tells me to keep it for now. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he says, moving down from the steps. Hands in his pocket, he stands there, and I realise he’s waiting for me to go in. Affording a small smile, I unlock the door and open it the smallest bit, squeezing through the gap to avoid letting him look into my miserable life. When I turn around, the smallest wave meets me before the door closes between us.

Pulling the two coats off of me, I chuck my own into a corner while I drape Eren’s over my arm. Bringing it to my face, I inhale the scent of a floral detergent mixed with sweat and dust. I chuckle - a soft smell for someone who comes off so intimidating. 

I switch on the small lamp I have beside a small desk on the floor, and my eyes latch onto a piece of paper. It’s torn at the edges, and inked with a handwriting I haven’t seen in years.

_Call me as soon as you can_

_With love,_

_Dad_


End file.
